Gabriel recoiled at the way the man spoke about killing a man, even a bad one, like a job that needed finishing. And then about the deputy. He thought he regretted it? But at least the penitent, if he could be called that, was haunted by the child's face... It was something. A seed, perhaps?

Gabriel wished he could share his thoughts and concerns with someone. He wished he could discuss the matter with a mentor, ask for advice on what to do. But he was alone and he would have to make a decision before he left this box. All he could do was pray for the power to discern. Even once the confession would be over, he could never discuss what he had heard and done with anyone or ask for guidance. Gabriel felt had lonely often, but never like now.

God help me.

This man had brought a gun into the church? Possibly the same gun that had killed twelve people?! Was it sacrilege? He would need to look it up later and deal with it. What was done was done. There was a man's soul at stake.

There was a lot that stood in this man's way. There was hardly remorse to speak of, let alone sufficient remorse. He knew what he had to do... But there was the beginning of remorse and he would need to be careful to nurture it. King David had had blood on his hands, but had been brought to repentance by the prophet Nathan. Saint Paul had persecuted Christian martyrs but had repented and radically altered his ways. This soul too could be saved. He could, by grace, be brought to sincere sorrow.

"I have. I have watched people die in terrible pain, or dirty, lonely and forgotten by the world. But the difference is that I was able to give them peace about their soul, and I could keep them company and show them kindness to make their passing easier. I made sure their bodies were buried with dignity when they passed. I can barely imagine what it is like to see a dying man's eyes when you know you caused their suffering... What do you think they thought and felt when they knew they were dying?"